


It's Kind of a Funny Story

by hannahetesta



Category: We Have Always Lived in the Castle - Shirley Jackson
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:39:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4235859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahetesta/pseuds/hannahetesta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Experimental piece/poem from the view of someone who lives in town. Major plot spoilers are touched upon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Kind of a Funny Story

How I know about the Blackwoods, you ask?  
All I have to say to that is,  
It's kind of a funny story...

I have always wondered about many things.  
My mother says it's because I was born with an agile mind.  
Whatever that means.

I want to go exploring in the forest.  
My father says it's dangerous to be there.  
Like I would believe that.

One thing I always wonder about is the Blackwood house.  
The townspeople say that it is not worth being bothered.  
I don't think that for a second.

I always see Mary Katherine Blackwood in town on Tuesdays and Fridays.  
My friends say she's a freak.  
I ignore them and avert my gaze.

I wonder about why everyone hates the Blackwoods.  
My neighbors say it's because Constance killed her family.  
I think it's something else.

I hear the fire sirens wail through the night.  
My parents say the Blackwood house is on fire as we tumble into the car.  
For once…I remain speechless.

The house is blackened by fire.  
Those around me say it's not worth putting out.  
I watch, eyes wide.

The people storm the house, and I can hear crashes and bangs.  
They shout and wail like wild things.  
I stand, hanging my head in shame.

A week later, my parents give me a basket.  
They say it's for the Blackwood sisters, an apology for what they did.  
I am finally allowed on the Blackwood land.

I go up to the door and ring the bell.  
No one says anything.  
I wait for a minute before I leave it on the steps and run home.

The next day, I go back through the gates.  
The children say someone is still in the house.  
The windows are boarded up, and I see no one there.

I take the basket home with me.  
My parents say that nothing is left.  
But they are wrong.

I pick up a little note laying under a bread pan.  
It says, "Thank you" in a childish scrawl.  
I smile.

Now, I walk past the house every day.  
People say that the Blackwood girls will stay there forever.  
I finally believe them.

You don't believe me, do you?  
As I said to you before,  
It's kind of a funny story...

It doesn't matter if they never come out.  
I say let them be.  
I think they are very happy exactly as they are.


End file.
